


This is a Goodbye

by The_Sheriff



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-04
Updated: 2013-11-04
Packaged: 2017-12-31 12:06:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1031532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Sheriff/pseuds/The_Sheriff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His eyes are the colour of the sea in a postcard someone sends you when they love you, but not enough to stay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is a Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate ending to season 3...

His eyes are the colour of the sea in a postcard someone sends you when they love you, but not enough to stay. Beta-blue and _warm warm warm_ like they’ve only ever been for you and for the memories that only hurt in a dull, distant way now. This is a goodbye. He leaves you till last, clapping Isaac on the back, shaking Scott’s hand. Allison gives him a small smile and Lydia nods brusquely from the doorway. Somehow it’s the most poignant of them all. Cora leaves with a smile and a wave and doesn’t look back as she walks out to the car. Nobody looks twice. You let the breath you didn’t even realise you’d been holding out through your mouth. It’s small and shaky. Painful. You blink up at him. His face is uncharacteristically relaxed and you don’t even know how you’re supposed to look at him any more. His fingers brush your cheek, and you hate that they’re hesitant. This used to be as easy as breathing, you think, but even that isn’t easy any more. Not with the ache in your chest that throbs and pulses in time to a heart that isn’t your own, twisting and clawing at you, desperate to scream and cry and fight and _hurt_ him with intimacy- sharpened words. You swallow them down with the lump in your throat. You feel them scratching your insides raw.  
“I love you.”  
“I know.”  
He leans in, kisses you once, lips hard against yours. You don’t kiss him back. Your hands clench into fists around the bottom of the stupid-red plaid shirt he likes so much on you. He loosens your fingers, coaxing your hands flat like a promise. When he leaves, you look down at your still-flat hands. They’re empty.

**Author's Note:**

> The first sentence is a beautiful Warsan Shire quote :)


End file.
